


Let You Down

by verovex



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attention Deprived Ed, Batman is Somewhere, Ever Prominent Lack of Communication, Future Fic, M/M, S4 Ivy & Os Never Turned Sour, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 15:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12585440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verovex/pseuds/verovex
Summary: Ed sets fire to Ivy’s research facility, forcing Oswald to take action. He’d been actively avoiding any association with the Riddler for the last seven years, and Ed just couldn’t let that be.





	Let You Down

**Author's Note:**

> Based on #22 from jacoimagines’s angst prompt [list](https://cobblepotcrimefamily.tumblr.com/post/167910617942/jacoimagines-angstfluff-prompts-i-just-want), and loosely inspired by the song _Let You Down_ by NF.

Ed always needed to make a damn _show_  of everything. Everything needed to be a bloody _spectacle_. There needed to be a captive audience, or at least there would be in the aftermath. This time he even included _fireworks_  after setting Ivy’s facility ablaze. It had clearly been an act that the _Riddler_  had nothing to fear of the _Penguin_ , knowing his fondness for one of his longest _friends_. That couldn’t stand.

Oswald needed to make a point. Ivy had come to him in _livid_ tears, a bright green envelope in hand with a purple question mark on the front, black wax seal in the shape of a Penguin on the back.

” _It’s for you. He did this to get to you.” Ivy placed the envelope into his confused hands. “He destroyed all of our work, Ozzie_. _All of_ my _work._ ”

Ivy had been planning the research facility for years. Oswald said he’d finance her dream if she went to Gotham University to learn. Finally, after six gruelling years of studies, research apprenticeships, and Oswald’s backing, she achieved her goal. She had moved all of her plantlife from the mansion to the building just a couple of days prior to the attack, she’d spent months before that ensuring everything was immaculate, just for the Riddler to blow up all her hard work — for _what_? 

 _“For fun, he pulls this shit for fun.”_   _Selina Kyle had said when Oswald tasked the Sirens to look into the incident. She’d also been livid towards Riddler, knowing how distraught Ivy was over it._

Ivy had opened the company under her pseudonym, _Pamela Isley_ , seldom been in the Gotham Gazette highlighting the new building, and even then she wore her attempt at a disguise. Oswald’s name was nowhere as a benefactor, he hadn’t even told the inner circle of his involvement in her newest endeavours. The only time he had even visited had been in the middle of the night, _alone_ , and the only way to have seen him was if he’d been followed.

Evidently, none of this had been for _fun_. It’d been used to remind Oswald of Ed’s hold over him, even though it had been seven years since his last interaction with the green-clad _ass._  He actively avoided all the confrontations, ensured meetings with the Rogue’s Gallery had them seated at opposite ends, never crossed paths as he sold properties that were _too close_  to Ed’s various safe houses, and yet, _still_ , despite having done _nothing_  to interfere with any of the Riddler’s antics over the years - Ed pulls this.

He hadn’t even bothered to open the envelope, didn’t need confirmation of what it said. Ed was baiting him.

” _Are you sure you should be going there by yourself_? _If you’re not willing to take me along, a_ _t least take one of the Victors with you._ ” Ivy had tried, as Oswald donned a heavy fur-lined coat, pulling one of his newer canes from his slew of choices at the front entrance to the mansion. He inputted the code to slide the armoury back into the closet, as Ivy paced in a circle behind him. Her green-tinged skin seemed accented by the fluorescent lights above. “ _This could be a trap._ ”

” _He would’ve been more direct if he wanted me dead,”_  Oswald reassured, even if he wasn’t so sure. He’d done everything possible to stay out of Ed’s way through the years, in attempts to calm his own need to have him as a part of his life, feigning it as animosity towards the other villain.

” _Don’t let him take advantage.”_  Ivy had mentioned as she held the large oak door open for him, noting his anguished apprehension. “ _He doesn’t control you._ ”

That’s not how it had _ever_ felt.

Ed’s most recent headquarters had been one of Gotham’s oldest banks, long since abandoned, and most notably was only three blocks from the Iceberg Lounge. Oswald knew not to chalk that up as a coincidence.

The tall marble columns lined the front of the building, as Oswald leaned heavily on his cane, eyeing the entrance sceptically. He could still back out, could still leave, could still write a different ending - an eye for an eye perhaps. He could dispatch Firefly to set fire to Riddler’s newest abode.

Oswald made a sound in the back of his throat, taking the last steps towards the building, and having the mechanical doors slide inwards as he approached. Noticing a fraction too slow the red laser on the floor as he grazed it with his oxfords, eyes going wide as a large blade swung down from the ceiling in a pendulum motion, propelling him back out the door. He watched it swing back and forth in front of him, feeling his heart beat erratically in his chest.

”Seriously? _Seriously._ ” Oswald called out, as he heard a buzzing sound, pulling the trap back into the confines of the ceiling, and seemed to not reset the laser motion sensor on the floor. He limped back into the building, patience waned by the energy he’d exerted from just _coming here_  and then nearly being eradicated from just _entering the building_.

His cane tapped loudly on the chessboard tiled floor, finding two different sets of staircases in front of him. _Why did there always need to be so many damn stairs_? The staircases bordered a set of glass doors at the centre, which seemed to be the only direction that was lit with a neon green glow. Oswald turned on his heel, watching as the doors slid closed to Gotham’s downtown core. He brought his free, maroon-gloved hand to his face, palming downwards at his cheek in frustration. 

”My apologies, I seem to have forgotten to disable the security protocols.” A voice _taunted_ from behind him.

Oswald stiffened, slowly turning back around to find Edward leaning against the glass doors, finding him with a smug smile in place. Oswald _hated_ that smile, _hated_ the way it brought attention to Ed’s distinctive cheekbones, _hated_ the way all of Ed’s smiles forced his breath to constrict.

He was surprised to find Ed had foregone his normal attire and question mark cane, settling for dark-green slim cut trousers, and a white dress shirt, top button noticeably unbuttoned. Ed’s hands were in his pockets, silent as Oswald continued to visually scrutinize him. It _did_  feel like it had been seven years since the last time he had looked at Ed properly. Oswald pointedly avoided him at meetings, even when he  _longed_  to admire how time seemed to have little effect on Ed’s looks.

”Somehow I doubt that very much.” Oswald finally replied, realizing he’d been staring, averting his gaze to seem _fascinated_  by the flooring, reminding himself that he wasn’t here to _stare_  at his old foe.

”You took longer than I expected. Did it take you that long to find me?”

”I’ve known where you were holed up since you bought the place.”

That forced Ed’s expression to harden, “how?”

Oswald smirked. “Oh, Ed. Surely you must know by now, not much happens in Gotham I don’t know about, including your various real estate purchases over the years.”

Ed waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I’m flattered.”

”That- what, _no-_ “

“Would you like to see more?” Ed interjected, moving to prop open one of the doors with an outstretched arm.

”No. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” Oswald took a step back, looking over his shoulder to the sliding doors, prompting Ed to pull a remote from his pocket, pressing a button as the laser on the floor at the entrance came alight.

”You’ve only just arrived.”

Oswald took a deep breath, head falling forwards slightly, and walking reluctantly towards the taller villain. He _tried_  to ignore how loud his heartbeat was, sliding passed Ed through the doors, and then having the other male follow behind him closely. They travelled down the dimly lit hallway, passing three locked vaults, no doubt littered with proof of Ed’s various conquests over the years.

He _should’ve_ brought one of the Victors or Ivy. He was starting to feel more and more vulnerable, hyper-vigilant of whatever Ed’s intentions were.

”You read my letter?” Ed asked behind him, strikingly close to Oswald’s ear.

”No.” Oswald snorted, in attempts to calm the realization that Ed had been a lot nearer than he thought.

”That’s too bad. It played a part in all of this.”

Oswald suddenly halted, forcing Ed to knock into him. “What are-“

”What is _this_? Ivy poured her heart and soul into that facility, and you, _what_ , destroyed it to send a message? If you wanted to wage a war, all you had to do was ask.”

Ed walked around the kingpin, standing in front of him, and tilting at his waist to bring his gaze to Oswald’s at eye-level. “If you had read the letter, you’d understand.”

”I don’t need one of your _damn_ convoluted riddles to tell me to come here. What you did to Ivy was unforgivable, she’s done nothing to you. Hell, I’ve done _nothing_ to you in seven years! I’ve stayed out of your way, I kept things civil, and you—you do _that_  to her?”

From the angle of light behind Ed, it forces a shroud over his features. ”I’m surprised the Penguin can be so _caring_  towards an underling.”

”She’s family.”

There’s a pause. Ed seeming to realize the _value_  Ivy was to Oswald’s life, recognizing it for something he could’ve had if things had been different. Ivy had been by Oswald’s side four times the length Ed had been, she was priceless to him.

”I used to be family.”

”You tried to _kill_  me.”

Because of course, the flow of conversation always came back to that.

It brought reminders of the pained loss of his best friend, reminders of when he’d lost his intellect after being frozen, eventually recovering with the help of Leslie Thompkins. Reminders of how he had returned to the Iceberg Lounge to make amends with Oswald after finding himself again, only to be shown the door, starting up this game of cat and mouse for the last seven years.

A game only Ed had been privy to know was even in motion. The idea that Oswald could rarely _stand_  to be in his presence had grown unbearable. They ran in the same circles, but Ed had been banned from the lounge. He was only allowed to make an appearance if the Joker personally summoned him - not Oswald. Anytime Ed spoke, Oswald flippantly ignored him, wouldn’t even _look_  his way when he was around.

It made him _angry._  Frustrated that he’d overcome his disdain for the way things had ended, had reached a level of serenity when it came to the events that had transpired nearly a decade prior. No one had come _close_  to his level of friendship with Oswald. No one _understood_ him in the way he did. No one saw him as being _more,_ the way Oswald had.

It had taken the discovery of old Court of Owls files for Ed to come to those conclusions, around the time when he’d attempted to make amends, having come across a file on Miss Kringle and the clone that came to be Isabella. He read a _thorough_  description on the type of person Edward _used_  to be, back when he worked at the GCPD, back when his lack of confidence and intrigue towards Miss Kringle’s aesthetic appeal pulled him to believe in a foolish version of love.

It _shattered_  his take on _why_  he had destroyed the only true friendship he had.

Oswald had shown him appreciation and loyalty, challenged him to find himself. Even after Ed escaped his frozen tomb, Oswald still showed him his own twisted version of compassion, motivated him to _be_  better.

Seven years was enough time for Ed to be forced to recognize _no one_  would raise him on a pedestal like Oswald had.

It was enough time to comprehend that love meant more than looks, that love meant accepting all of one’s faults and flaws, which Miss Kringle did not (not that any sane person would’ve), but Oswald had.

”Earth to Ed.” Oswald snapped his fingers in front of his face, likely for a third time judging by how Oswald’s look of annoyance had turned into genuine concern.

”You’re alive, though,” Ed muttered, as his eyes focused.

”Thanks to your ineptitude, yes.” Oswald quipped, earning a prod to his shoulder that he felt might’ve been too friendly, as Ed turned to keep walking down the length of the hallway.

Oswald’s concern grew as they entered a large room, eerily similar to the style of Ed’s bachelor apartment from so many years prior, even if it was twice the size. He was beginning to forget what his purpose had been in coming here, what he’d wanted to drive home with the most stubborn person he’s ever known. The thought of killing Ed had flashed while he’d been at the mansion, mostly from recalling Ivy’s tears. He’d never seen her cry for anything or anyone other than Selina, from a Bat-related event two years earlier, and that had _also_  been an event related to Ed.

The thought of seeing Ed dead brought him more agony than having him wander Gotham alive, and even now that still was true. Ivy had said Ed didn’t control him, but that had been far from the truth.

“I just want you to leave me the _fuck_ alone.” Oswald suddenly stated, freezing Ed in his trek towards the kitchen space. He turned slowly, brown eyes briefly catching blue as they travelled to the wall. “Leave Ivy alone. Leave my business alone. Leave everything of mine alone.”

”Why?”

Oswald hadn’t seen him approach, hadn’t noticed how close Ed was to him, reaching for him, until he found the momentum to step back, lifting his cane to press the end to Ed’s stomach. “Don’t.”

That feeling of anger flared with such ferocity Ed pressed against the edge of the cane, gaze hard. “Why?”

“You are _exhausting_.” Oswald sighed, lowering his cane to the floor, surprising Ed as he somewhat stumbled. Oswald had seen the flash of _Riddler_  come across his expression, not keen on living through whatever could come of that. “Do we have a deal? Stay away from Ivy, any of her future aspirations, and myself, or... else.”

It was an empty threat, they normally were when it came to Ed.

”Or else _what_?”

“Or else I’ll have you killed.” Oswald furrowed his brow, eyes fluttering to meet Ed’s amused ones.

”Can’t even do it yourself?”

”If that’s your final wish-“

”You could _never_.”

Oswald shrugged his shoulders, flicking the handle of his cane upwards, revealing a mechanism he had installed for purposes such as these. He lifted the cane into both hands, aiming it towards Ed. “Want to find out?”

” _Yes_.”

Oswald’s expression faltered entirely at the reply, grip trembling on the cane as Ed moved into the weapon, wrapping fingers around it and pressing it into his chest. 

“Kill me, Oswald.”

It’s a means to an end, a way to put a permanent end to their uncertain trajectory, and he had the power, Ed was giving him that power, that capability. Except he _truly_ wasn’t the one with the power, Oswald knew it was calculated, things always were with Ed. He was _so_  sure Oswald was still incapable of letting him go, causing Oswald to let his finger linger on the trigger mechanism longer than he thought was possible. He sighed, relinquishing the charade, closing the top of his cane, and lowering it again to the floor, effectively bringing a victory smile to Ed’s lips, and a subsequent jovial tone. 

“See, you couldn’t-“

”I’m leaving,” Oswald announced, rotating on his heel and attempting to rush down the hallway.

This was _too_ much, it had been a terrible idea. He had no control. He had no plan. He didn’t even know what Ed wanted, just knew he needed to leave. He’d come _so_  far, kept his emotions in check, kept the reality of how he felt entombed since he’d frozen Ed. _All of it_ threatened to be unravelled by simply being in Ed’s vicinity. It’s why he’d kept his distance, why he only received reports instead of face-to-face interactions, why he ignored letters over the years, why he banned Ed from the lounge, all because his lack of control would lead to his downfall, _again._

“All of Ivy’s plants, files, and computers are in an old abandoned greenhouse up the road from the mansion. That’s what the letter said, I had written out half of the coordinates, and indicated if you wanted the other half, to come find me.”

Oswald _stops_ , fuming, grip tightening on his cane, the other curling into a fist. “ _What?_ ”

”I simply blew up the building, not its contents.”

“ _Why?_ ”

”I wanted your attention.”

Oswald turns, eyes wide, and finding that Ed was looking everywhere else other than at him. “You _what_?”

”I- you- come on, you heard me.”

Ed craved his attention, more than he ever had since Oswald seemed to never want to associate himself with him. It had festered into a debilitating need, regularly finding himself in situations he _hoped_ would garner Oswald’s presence, that maybe if he did something _so stupid_ , Oswald would appear at his side. Yet, nothing had worked, until Ivy. Following Oswald to the facility, watching them interact, hearing Oswald tell Ivy he was _proud of her -_ it forced a fusion of how Ed _missed_ him and his depraved need for affirmation, into the perfect ploy to have Oswald finally focus on him again.

”Is this a joke to you?” Oswald pushed off on his cane towards Ed, simmering in annoyance. “That property was worth three million dollars, at its lowest. For my _attention_? I don’t want to say this again - leave me _alone._ This- whatever it is, it’s done.”

The anger is back, not that Oswald can tell from how _frustrated_ he presently is, as Ed’s eyes darken, he grasps at Oswald’s wrist when he tries to turn to leave again, pulling him back.

Oswald feels the fire from the tightness of Ed’s grip, trying to rip his wrist away, but incapable. “What are you-“

”You never heard what I had to say when I came to the lounge seven years ago.”

”Because a handful of days prior you had made a point of poisoning several incoming shipments of drugs, costing me hundreds of thousands of dollars. I wasn’t exactly in a mood to listen to you gloat!”

”That was before I found out Isabella was a clone sent by the Court.” Ed loosened his grip, meeting widened eyes. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

”I had my suspicions.”

”Why didn’t you tell me?”

”When was I supposed to tell you? Sometime between you trying to kill me, and when you were trying to kill me again? I was a little more concerned for my own self-preservation!”

“I wanted to tell you I was sorry.” Ed entirely lets Oswald’s wrist go, leaving whatever Oswald wanted to do with that information up to him. If that meant he still wanted to leave, so be it. “I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

How had he beaten Oswald to apologizing? He had wanted to for _so_  long, when he’d been forced to understand that love meant sacrifice, and when he should’ve let Ed make his own decisions. How he had used Ed’s trust against him, took advantage of how suggestible he’d been, that wasn’t how you showed someone you loved them, and he would regret it till the end of their lives.

“I’m sorry for killing her.” It was long overdue, and Oswald felt like his breath was caught in his throat, tone raspy. “Even if she was created to be used against you — you said you loved her, I should’ve let you be happy, but I let you down, and I shouldn’t have taken her away from you.”

Oswald doesn’t find the time to realize what’s happening as Ed yanks him into an embrace, feeling all the muddled warmth spread through every ounce of his being. Oswald finds tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, as Ed clutches at his shoulders, grip unwavering, muttering  _‘thank you_ ’ next to Oswald’s ear.

“I never loved her,” Ed says, still holding Oswald against him. The kingpin finally returning the embrace after a moment of disbelief, wrapping his arms around Ed’s waist, as he continues. “I thought I did - because it was easy to sink back into the normalcy of my previous life, to think I had another chance, but Miss Kringle... Isabella neither of them _saw_  me. My understanding of love back then was an abysmal ignorance to how I view it now.”

Ed leans back, forcing Oswald to as well. Ed looks _happy_  about their conversation, Oswald notes, as he personally felt nauseous. Oswald’s only view of love was through his _undying_  love for Ed, and he’d worked hard to keep that at bay. He ensured Ed’s safety from a distance through the years, especially when it came to the bat infestation. He was certain Ed never knew _why_ he’d been able to get away _so_  many times through the years, but it’d been thanks to him - and frequently featured a reluctant Zsasz.

Oswald feels hazy in their closeness, eyelids drooping, as Ed reaches up to cup his cheeks.

”My change in perspective is thanks to you.” Ed thumbs over his skin, gaze and tone soft. “I _love_  you.”

Oswald’s chest feels hollow, stomach churning in apprehension, the world spiralling around him. He felt dizzy with cognizance, realizing too slowly that his lack of response was prompting Ed to look dejected. Oswald grips at Ed’s wrists as they fall from his face, moving Ed’s hands back to where they’d been.

At one time, Oswald had accepted what he deserved, knowing back then Ed would never return his sentiments. This felt impossible. When he’d come back from the grasps of death, thanks to Ivy, he resolved to return to Gotham with his feelings ensnared. He full-heartedly believed he would never speak of his love for Ed again, even if he had accepted there would only _ever_  be Ed.

“Would you have told me that seven years ago?” Oswald asks, eyes sliding shut, finding himself leaning more fully into the warmth, realizing how truly touch-starved he’d been for _so_  long. “Or, is this something that built over time?”

“I might have told you, but the distance did make the heart grow fonder.”

Oswald still hasn’t said anything in relation to his proclamation, Ed notes. Anytime he thinks it might be because Oswald might no longer feel the same, Ed tries to pull away, but finds himself pulled back. Ed recollects this was probably a lot to process, especially for someone who’d only shown up to tell Ed off. He was rehashing elements of their past Oswald had likely confined. He had constantly outwardly portrayed disdain for Ed - but it was the action of still being unable to kill him that made Ed believe the love was still there. Perhaps he’d been wrong.

“Os-?”

”I never _stopped_ loving you.”

Oswald finds eager lips on his within seconds of his response, the sensation heightened by how long he had _yearned_ for it, how much they both seemed to have _needed_ it. Ed’s lips are soft and slightly chapped, meshing against Oswald’s in such an erratic fervour, hands moving down to wrap around Oswald’s waist, pulling them closer together. Oswald reached to weave his fingers through Ed’s hair, lightly pulling. 

Ed finds himself thoroughly annoyed by the thickness of Oswald’s coat, moving his hands to the front to unzip it, while pulling Oswald’s lower lip between his teeth, earning a low moan. “You have _way_ too many layers on.”

”Can’t say that was my primary concern when I came here,” Oswald replied softly, having the coat yanked from him and meeting Ed in another hurried kiss. Their tongues brush and they both feel like they’re moving on air.

Nothing prior had felt so electrifying to Ed, nothing had ever made Oswald feel more vulnerable. Fingers are coming up underneath Oswald’s blazer, pulling at the tucked-in dress shirt, and coming up to rest on Oswald’s back, nails digging in as Oswald breaks their liplock.

”I love you, Mr. Nygma.” Oswald confirms, heart feeling heavy, but relieved of the burden of unreturned love.

Ed hummed appreciatively, placing his lips to Oswald’s neck, teeth grazing the skin, before pulling back to reply with that _damn_  smile Oswald loved so much, “and I love you, Mr. Cobblepot.”


End file.
